The Line of Durin
by odmonkey
Summary: Tales from the early lives of the last links in Durin's line - and their long-suffering uncle. Baby!Fili & Baby!Kili & Grumpy!Thorin. Good clean dwarf family fun - I don't own anything herein.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all. I have now seen the Hobbit four times. I haven't seen a film four times at the cinema since the first Pirates of the Caribbean back when I was a teenager with a serious thing for Johnny Depp. (As opposed to a woman with a serious thing for Johnny Depp, as I am now.) The Hobbit has become something of a problem.**

** I've been reading all the fiction I can get my hands on and goddamn do I love baby dwarves. I realise that everyone is doing this sort of thing, but here's my contribution to nigh on dangerous levels of cute. **

**Loosely connected one-shots - the best kind. I'm not totally sure on the timelines here but I don't think anything here directly contradicts what we do know.**

**Enjoy.**

XXXXX

Dís may have been a king's granddaughter but it was her forge that was in her blood. Dwarf men may have outnumbered their female counterparts three-to-one but they had the same ratio for premature deaths. Dwarf women were no less sturdy and strong of arm but their rarity and the need for children meant they were rarely trained as soldiers. Instead they became smiths and miners the same as their fellows – discrimination against them was much less rife than in the human, elf or even hobbit world.

However no daughter of Thráin, son of Thrór, would be allowed into the depths under Erebor so Dís sat in her brothers' company as they learned the skill of shaping metal. When the boys had grown older and politics and swordplay took their attentions, Dís remained in the heat and smoke. In the years before Smaug the Terrible it became a refuge from the gold-sickness that plagued Thrór. Later it became a source of income to support their people as they moved. More importantly it was also a refuge from her husband.

The concept of an arranged marriage was not completely alien to the dwarves but it was a rarely used practice. Few were willing to enter into a match that could make both parties unhappy for the hundred years they could expect to live together. Dís had no choice in the matter. Her husband was both a prig and an unbearable dullard. Even the fact he was considered to have been attractive with a full head of golden blond hair and a long, thick beard that he kept immaculately could not have enamoured her of him. Thrór was enamoured; but only of the vast fortune that came with the new addition to his household. It could not match that which had been lost in Erebor but it eased the tight grip of his gold-lust.

Dís loathed him but she could not let that stand in the way of her duty as a princess even though the kingdom was lost.

When she first held the tiny golden bundle that was her eldest son she wondered how his father had ever managed to produce such a wonder. Fíli had his father's shimmering hair, running like the veins of gold under the mountain, but he had his mother's eyes. He was a quiet infant but constantly curious about the world around him, taking in every detail with his huge blue eyes. Dís, and her brother, could not have been more proud of him; especially when he shied away from his father. She placated her husband as best she could while hiding the joy on seeing Fíli cling to Thorin with his tiny fists.

Fíli was barely out of swaddling clothes when he became an older brother to little Kíli. Kíli was more of the House of Durin in appearance, with their dark hair and his grandfather's nose. He had a lighter heart than his brother, laughed freer and did not cry at his father's touch though he also preferred Thorin's presence. Above all he loved his elder brother who in turn treasured him more than anything.

They were rarely separated. Fíli was fiercely protective even at such a tender age and Kíli would wail if he was taken from him. Fíli held him when he cried, and Kíli laughed when his brother petted his hair. Dís thought her heart would burst when Kíli's first steps tottered him into his brother's arms or when Kíli would share his food with his swiftly growing sibling. Thorin watched on with amusement – he and dear Frerin had never been so close with Dís coming between them, but he recognised the strength of brotherly affection.

Though their father lived they found a far superior role model in their beloved uncle Thorin. He had always been stern and the loss of Erebor had left a wound that had not healed, but with his nephews it was like he was a child again.

When no one was looking he swung them around, rolled on the floor with them as the troll, goblin, or orc to their heroes, and read to them as they fell asleep gathered into his lap at night. He was also endlessly exasperated by their prodigious talent for finding trouble in places there were none.

"Uncle Thowin!"

Thorin paused mid-stride in the low-ceilinged corridor of their modest home. He was just that minute returned from a several-day meeting with the men of a nearby village and had been thinking of nothing but a pint of ale and a sit down. The little chirping voice of his youngest nephew was unmistakable – Thráin had told him when he was younger, to much amusement from his siblings, that he'd also suffered from such a lisp until he had been more than ten.

Turning he saw Kíli's wild dark hair approaching him as fast as his short legs could carry him. He was barely more than a toddler and his steps were not always certain. However Fíli was never too far away to catch him before he tumbled and it was so on this occasion. Thorin smiled as he watched his eldest nephew keeping pace easily beside his brother. Fíli was growing into a strong child and Thorin was confident of seeing some beard growth in the next years from his young heir.

"What can I do for you, nephews?" Thorin raised his eyebrows at them in case they were in trouble and coming for his help.

"Mama says I can't have a sword!" whined Kíli, drawing out his vowels for maximum irritation.

"I agree with her, you are too young yet. Do not fret little one, it will not be long," Thorin smiled kindly down at him, a smile that seemed reserved only for Dís and her boys.

"Fíli has one!" Kíli complained, pointing an accusing finger at the small wooden sword held in Fíli's grasp.

This was a new development. Dís had been prevaricating on whether it was time to allow her first-born a beginner's training weapon but he hadn't realised she had come to a decision. He immediately suspected that this had been Dwalin's doing. The warrior had been making overt comments on Fíli's increasing age and need for a young princeling to be able to defend themselves for some time now.

Thorin would not be surprised to hear that his oldest friend had simply by-passed Dís' wishes and given him the sword anyway. Of course Dwalin would have urgent business in protecting their new home should Dís come to for a reckoning and that would leave Thorin with all the responsibility. Though he privately agreed that in these harder times Fíli would benefit from training, seeing how young his nephew still was caused him heartache.

"I can see that little one, but he has five full years to his name – and strength," Thorin said as soothingly as he could manage, putting a large hand down to ruffle Kíli's hair.

Fíli brightened on hearing that his uncle was not going to take the sword from him and make him wait. However it was tempered by the despair only a child can muster on seeing his brother so unhappy.

Thorin winced as Kíli's lower lip began to tremble on realising that his uncle was going to agree with his mother, "I really can't have one?"

"I am sorry, your mother will have my beard if I do not agree with her – she just doesn't want you hurt, you are both too precious to us," Thorin realised that Dís would make him pay dearly for reinforcing Kíli's notion that she was the only one denying him but he could not bear to see the hurt in his nephew's eyes.

Kíli looked up at his uncle and tears began to well in his eyes. Thorin made to kneel but Kíli sobbed and fled to his brother who dropped the play-sword to the ground to hold him. Their uncle was at once relieved and amazed by how this event had not changed their interactions. When Thorin had been given his first sword and taken his first steps towards adolescence Frerin had been inconsolable and had directed all his childish anger towards his older brother. Though Kíli could not see that his mother and Thorin were not to blame he had realised it was not Fíli's fault and clung to him as he ever had.

Fíli chewed his lip awkwardly as he gently rocked his crying brother and caught Thorin with such a beseeching gaze that Thorin was powerless to resist.

Moving to them, and ignoring the stab of hurt caused him by Kíli squirming in Fíli's hold to be away from him, he placed his hands on their shoulders. He stilled as he realised just how small the pair of them still were and resolved to oversee Fíli's training to ensure Dwalin did not push the boy too hard.

"Shall I tell you boys a secret?" he said, lowering his voice as if he was imparting something of great importance.

Fíli nodded immediately, eyes bright with excitement on being in his beloved uncle's confidence. Even Kíli's disappointment could not stop him turning his face slightly from where it was buried in Fíli's shoulder to hear something that no one else knew.

"I was much older than Fíli is now before I received my first training sword, and I am sure that you will be younger than I was when your time comes Kíli," he whispered to them, as if this were something that he wished kept private from any potential eavesdroppers.

Fíli seemed to swell with pride on hearing that he had bested the prince that all the dwarves of the Misty Mountains looked on with awe. Kíli withdrew further from Fíli's embrace and scowled at Thorin as if trying to decipher whether he was being fooled but the hopeful glint in his eyes gave his thoughts away.

Thorin smiled at them before sliding his arms around them to draw them into an embrace. They both eagerly accepted the rare gift of his undivided affections and cuddled close, all previous emotional upheaval forgotten.

"Now, where is your mother?" he asked once he was sure that he had placated them. Dís was fearsome when she suspected something had upset her dear boys.

"She's at her forge, uncle," Fíli answered, reaching down to pick up the sword that had caused the whole matter.

"Who looks after you today?" Thorin asked, wondering which unfortunate dwarf had been collared by Dís so she could return to work. Fíli and Kíli were notorious for only truly behaving when under the watchful eye of their mother – even Thorin had been forced to raise his voice at them to control them.

"Mister Balin! He wead to us," Kíli said before launching into a rapid description of the tale that Balin had spun them this time.

Thorin decided to forego his pint for the moment to see his oldest friend and walked to the sitting room, his nephews' hands held in his as they chattered. He'd been sure Balin would have taken longer visiting their kin in the Iron Hills but his return was welcome – his political expertise were sorely missed by all when he was not in their settlement.

On entering the room it was clear why the boys had been running around in the corridors waiting for him to come home. Balin was sat in the armchair next to the fire and snoring quietly, a well-worn book of tales resting in his lap. Thorin smiled down at his nephews who had stopped talking for fear of waking him – Balin should think himself lucky, few others were afforded such consideration.

Thorin closed the door a little harder to keep the heat in. Balin jerked awake at the sound and immediately looked around for the boys, the split-second of fear in not seeing them nearby definitely came from knowing their mother. On seeing them crowded around their uncle he smiled.

"Thorin laddie, good to see you."

"You too Balin, have the boys been behaving?" Thorin asked, sitting in the other armchair.

Kíli stayed close to him, sitting on the floor and pulling out one of his little toys shaped like an orc and another like a dwarf hero of old. Fíli went to sit before the fire but Kíli soon had him holding another orc toy for his hero to slay with all the associated noises.

Balin's face was fond as he watched them at play, "Aye they've been grand, a credit to Durin's line for sure."

"All thanks to Dís believe me. Now I think on it, where is their father?" Thorin asked.

"I believe she's sent him down to oversee the new shaft that's being opened," Balin said, sharing an amused look with his friend.

"Because he is so well-versed in mining matters," Thorin commented lightly.

The boys' father had obviously been annoying his sister – it was the only reason Thorin could think of for her inflicting his presence on the poor miners digging out the new silver seams. He turned his head as the front door opened. Dís had a real habit of appearing when he thought of her – it had foiled many a troublemaking scheme when they had been children.

Fíli brightened, and made to move to the door but he stopped on seeing Kíli scowling at the floor. He tugged on one of the braids in his thick hair, torn between seeing his mother and solidarity with his disappointed brother.

Balin looked them over and turned to their uncle, "This about young master Fíli's new sword?"

Thorin nodded. Kíli scowled even harder in an attempt to stop himself crying anymore – he realised that if his mother saw him crying that was just prove he was still too much a baby to be allowed a weapon.

Balin leaned forward to get their attention "Has your uncle told you just how old he was before he was given his first sword, hmm?"

Thorin made a big show of trying to silence his oldest friend to make his nephews laugh. Fíli grinned brightly and even Kíli was mollified on hearing it from the dwarf who had become their surrogate grandfather.

"Aye, Thorin was far too much a troublemaker," Balin winked down at them, "So you'd better be on your best behaviour master Kíli."

Fíli and Kíli gasped, turning their wide excited eyes on their stead-fast uncle as they tried to comprehend the thought of him actually causing trouble rather than stepping in to stop their own. Dís called for them from beyond the room and they ran off together, Kíli clinging to his brother's hand as usual.

Thorin smiled ruefully at Balin who returned it. Thorin may once have had youthful high spirits, that much was true, but he had grown in a time of peace and plenty. He had been a prince of one of the greatest kingdoms of all – there had been no need for him to learn to use a weapon before he came of a proper age. In these unsettled times Fíli was in far more danger than a cosseted prince as Thorin had been.

In the kitchen they could hear the boys' laughter. Thorin reached up to rub his eyes but Balin placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"They have you, you know, they will be safe."

XXXXX

R/R


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all very much for the nice reviews and follows etc! **

**I had this chapter written already but the next updates might be more erratic as I'm heading back into the wilderness of 'no computer'.**

**Please tell me what you think and if there are any scenarios you'd like to see. (DarlingLove - I have some ideas for yours!)**

**Enjoy.**

XXXXX

Summers in Ered Luin were short and the wind was already starting to bite even before Durin's Day. Dís had said as much before she had left for her work and Thorin had known her well enough to see the hint for what it was. Thorin had spent so much time on the roads of Middle Earth that he barely felt anything more than freezing temperatures. However the same could not be said of his little nephews.

Fíli and Kíli had begged their mother to take them to the monthly fair in the city's market place but Dís was too busy. There had been a huge order from Gondor and all available hands had been called to their forges. Thorin had negotiated it himself and was proud of the standing that the dwarves of the Misty Mountains were now held in. He had worked hard himself to ensure the order was fulfilled but his political duties had split his time.

Balin and Dwalin were securing new territories to the north that would provide for the refugees that were constantly streaming to their new settlement so they couldn't take the boys. Thorin could not be sure that they'd even asked their father – the stupid dwarf was far more concerned with the new inn that had just opened – so that left their uncle to take them.

The pair had been set to rush out of the front door and straight to the toymaker's but Thorin had to refuse to open the door before they were appropriately attired for the weather. Both had complained heartily about the wasting of time and how the good toys would be gone as Thorin wrestled them into their outer layers.

Fíli preferred tan and Kíli blue was the extent of what Thorin could remember about their clothes. Dís had left Erebor with nothing but the clothes she wore and it seemed as though she would not let such a fate befall her sons. He had never seen so many over-clothes as those that hung in the wardrobe near the door. All of them tiny and in a variety of shades of tan and blue.

He could feel his nephews looking at each other as if they couldn't fathom why he hadn't chosen the clothes they always wore. Thorin could admit to himself at least that he had never paid that much attention to their outer garments. Kíli had only recently begun to leave the house under his own power and he rarely saw them anywhere but indoors.

The moment stretched and there was a distinct sound of a muffled giggle from Kíli. Fíli, it seemed, had a little more sense and his little face was completely blank when Thorin whipped round to glare at them. Kíli had a chubby fist clenched before his mouth but his dark eyes sparkled with ill-contained mirth. Thorin scowled down at them. Being made to feel embarrassed by his baby nephews was something he had never expected to experience in all his days.

Fíli definitely had a king's potential as he diplomatically resolved the situation by asking, "Could I have my coat with the fur collar?" politely, and pointing helpfully towards it.

Thorin nodded, reaching it down from the hook and handing it to him.

"Which one do you want to wear Kíli?" Fíli asked, looking down at his brother with a warning look.

Kíli caught his brother's line of thought that if they annoyed their uncle he might not want to take them anymore and managed to stop giggling.

"That one!" he said, pointing to the dark navy coat that had been underneath Fíli's on the same hook.

Fíli had pulled his coat on but Thorin had to kneel to help Kíli get his arms through the sleeves. After doing up the carved metal toggles he turned to Fíli to help him with his more complicated buttons. On being sure that the two of them were sufficiently protected from the cold he stood and looked them over. Fíli was almost swamped by the furs around his collar and Kíli's coat was so padded that his arms couldn't rest against his sides.

Stifling a fond laugh of his own he unlatched the door and allowed the pair to almost waddle outside before closing the house up behind him.

"Stay close you two, or else we come straight home," he warned as they bounded ahead, Kíli clinging onto Fíli's sleeve.

"Yes uncle!" they chorused but stayed ahead of him, turning beseeching eyes on him whenever they felt he was moving too slowly.

Thorin rolled his eyes but increased his pace imperceptibly in case they did miss out on the best toys. He could not give them all that he wished but he'd be damned if he let them go without something as small as the little toys the market sellers could provide. He noticed that Fíli was not wearing his new sword and wondered if it was to placate his brother.

The monthly market had been growing in size and prosperity and Thorin was a little astonished at how far it had progressed. The food stalls were the most prominent and accounted for more than half of the sellers but there were plenty of other distractions. There were many selling crafts, weapons and armour as well as fabrics, upholstery and jewellery. The market bore all the hallmarks of a well-established and prosperous city and Thorin allowed himself a feeling of triumph.

Of course the popularity meant that it was incredibly busy – an easy place for two little dwarflings to disappear. He called Fíli and Kíli back to him and reminded them that their mother would have a fit if they were to get lost. The pair of them nodded but it was clear in their eyes that the only thing they were thinking of was what new toys would be on sale. Thorin sighed and decided to take action now rather than face Dís' wrath later.

He swung Kíli into his arms, resting him firmly on his hip and instructing him to hold tightly to his shoulder. Fíli looked a little aggrieved to not receive the same treatment and Thorin could see he desperately wanted to pout but also wanted to appear too grown up for that sort of behaviour.

"I believe you are grown enough to be trusted in this crowd, so long as you hold my hand. I do not want to be disappointed," he stated, looking imperiously down at Fíli who perked up on being given some responsibility.

Thorin took his little hand and wondered idly if he had been so easy to fool when he was a growing child desperate to prove himself. Fíli trotted along obediently beside him but he was careful to keep a tight grip just in case.

As they walked Thorin often had to stop to exchange words with dwarves keen to catch the attention of their de-facto leader. The boys were a source of great excitement for the citizens who reached to pinch Kíli's cheeks and bent to ruffle Fíli's locks. There were few dwarf children in the city though Thorin was confident that more would be born as life became truly settled in the Blue Mountains. He was sure Glóin, one of Dwalin's warriors, had recently announced the pregnancy of his wife – it was a sure sign that life was returning to the dwarves of Erebor.

"Uncle Thowin!"

Thorin winced as Kíli shouted in his ear and followed his out-stretched hand to a stall slightly further ahead. Across the wooden table, set lower than the others for little ones, lay a multitude of hand carved toys in wood, metal and stone. It was clear Fíli wanted to drag his uncle and brother over to it but there was no way he would make it through the crowds by himself. Taking a deep breath Thorin tipped his free shoulder forward to push through until they came to the merchant.

The stall was set slightly apart from the others and away from the main body of the market. On approach it was easy to see why. Although a large, ginger dwarf stood behind the counter it did not seem as though he was the owner. Instead it was a dwarf Thorin fancied he recognised – after all it was hard to forget a dwarf who had survived an axe to the head. He had been a fierce fighter at Azanulbizar and Thorin, though blinded with his own grief, had found a little time to mourn him.

Of course his mourning was somewhat premature as Balin had come to him as they sheltered in the lea of the mountain with a tale to tell. Thorin cursed to himself that he couldn't recall the dwarf's name immediately but he vividly remembered the wonder he had felt on seeing the lad cling to life. He supposed such a terrible injury must have had repercussions but it was strange to see him as a toymaker of all things.

Kíli squirmed to be down and as soon as Thorin let his little feet touch the ground Fíli and Kíli had run towards the toys.

"Hello Mister Bifur, Mister Bombur," Fíli said politely, remembering his manners while Kíli waved up at them.

"Hello boys, a good day to you!" Bombur, a dwarf not too many seasons older than the boys, smiled down at them.

Bifur merely grunted and unleashed a flurry of words that even from a distance Thorin could identify as Khuzdul. Fíli and Kíli seemed unfazed and simply asked to see toys they hadn't seen the last time. Thorin was sure the boys only had some small knowledge of the language as they had been relying on Balin to teach them when he was in the city. Most dwarves only started to learn the secret language when they were seasons older than Fíli to prevent the language being twisted by a childish tongue. To see a dwarf speaking it to children as young as his nephews was strange. At least they had reminded him of the dwarf's name and that of the jolly ginger boy.

Bombur looked around suddenly, "Where's your mother, you two? You know she'll give you a hiding if you've run off," he twisted his fingers nervously; obviously worried that Dís' wrath might come his way a little.

"Mama isn't here, we're with Uncle Thowin," Kíli announced proudly, turning to point at Thorin as he came over.

Bifur barely acknowledged him beyond a grunt and continued whittling away at the little wooden pony taking shape in his hands. Bombur looked terrified on seeing him and twisted his hands into his little apron even harder. The apron triggered a memory in Thorin and he recognised the lad as the cook over in the boarding house.

"Good day to you both, I trust you are keeping well?" Thorin asked.

Bombur shook slightly under Thorin's heavy gaze but managed to nod and reply, "Very well indeed, sir, and you?"

"Aye well enough, when these two aren't causing trouble," he answered, looking down at the boys who were involved in a serious discussion of the merits of owning more likenesses of Durin.

Bifur burbled some and said a few more words that Thorin pieced together as meaning he should buy something. Bombur looked as though he might faint from mortification.

"I'm so sorry Thorin sir, he doesn't mean any disrespect –"

Thorin held up a hand to interrupt and Bombur ceased speaking immediately, casting his eyes to the floor.

"I know he doesn't. He fought by my side and I will not forget that," Thorin spoke quietly to allay Bombur's fears.

Bombur sighed with relief as Thorin's attention was pulled away by Fíli tugging on his sleeve.

"Have you chosen?"

"I want this one!" piped up Kíli, holding a particularly grotesque orc-figure.

"Indeed, are you sure it won't give you nightmares?" Thorin asked.

Kíli scowled on being reminded of the time he'd demanded a gruesome doll and had come crying to his brother after it had scared him in the dark, "I'm sure uncle."

"What about you Fíli?"

Fíli held up a sculpted pony and motioned for his uncle to come closer.

Making sure Kíli was distracted he whispered, "Kíli broke his pony but he doesn't want mama to know so I'll get this one so he has one again."

Thorin smiled at the rush of pride he felt, "I shall buy that one for him, you pick something you would like Fíli."

Fíli beamed and immediately grabbed the dwarf-warrior he had obviously wanted. Straightening up he turned to Bifur and Bombur.

"How much for these three?" he asked, gesturing to the pony in his hand and the toys that the boys helpfully held up.

Bifur had drifted into his own world. His hands had stilled over the pony and his eyes were focussed on a point well into the distance. Fíli and Kíli watched him with undisguised interest but Thorin flicked Fíli in the ear to make him stop. The message was quickly passed along to Kíli by means of a pinch in the side but he couldn't help continuing to steal glances.

Bombur reached out to shake his cousin's arm gently but Bifur couldn't be roused. The prices were written on a small sign beside the toys and Kíli slowly counted out how much they owed. Thorin nodded down to his clever little nephew and Kíli shared a grin with his brother who'd been helping him with his arithmetic.

"Oh I couldn't charge you anything, Thorin sir," Bombur said, turning to him.

Thorin shook his head, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his coin purse, "It is no hardship to support our markets – and old friends," he said, casting his eyes to Bifur.

Bombur looked almost in awe as Thorin pressed a few coins into his hand. He placed the pony into an inside pocket in his coat and made sure the boys had a firm grip on their new items. Nodding to the two dwarves he picked Kíli up again and held Fíli's hand.

"Say thank you, boys."

"Thank you mister Bombur, mister Bifur!" the two chorused, all smiles.

The noise seemed to snap Bifur back to reality and he managed a wave although it seemed to be directed to the ground before them. Bombur smiled, and told them he was sure there was bound to be new toys next month.

As Thorin drew the two of them through the crowd and back towards their home, one of the miners with a heavy mattock over his shoulder appeared at the stall.

Thorin distinctly heard Bombur's voice as he said, "Bofur! You'll never guess who we saw!"

When they arrived back at the house Dís was home and preparing a quick meal. Thorin was sure as soon as she'd seen the boys fed she'd be returning to her work. Re-hanging the boys' coats he pulled the two close and knelt down.

Withdrawing the pony he handed it to Kíli, "Do not tell your mother, and take good care of it."

Kíli beamed, his grin almost splitting his face. As he turned away to hide the pony in his room Thorin winked at Fíli who clutched his warrior-toy to his chest and smiled happily.

Thorin could not say that his sister's cooking was the best he'd ever tasted. They'd grown up with cooks so there had been no need to learn, but at least it was warm and filling. He sat at the table as she filled his bowl.

"Did the boys behave?" she asked, looking him over for signs of stress.

"Of course, I am their uncle," he smirked at her.

Dís laughed. Levity was not something her brother often showed and she would absorb it while she could. The boys came tumbling into the kitchen, both still clinging to their toys as they attached themselves to their mother's work apron.

Thorin leaned back in his chair and listened to their chatter by the warmth of the fire. It was not home. But it was close.

XXXXX

R/R


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. Writing on a smart-phone has to be one of the most frustrating things in the universe – the screen is so goddamn tiny with the keyboard on it! **

**Anyway, little baby dwarf feels make it all ok.**

**DarlingLove – Hope this fits the sort of thing you wanted?**

**Tell me what you think you guys, I need the love!**

**XXXXX**

Thorin stretched out in the chair beside the fire in the kitchen, and used a piece of kindling to light his pipe. The kitchen was often the focal point of activity in the house so he strived to enjoy the rare quiet. It was very early in the morning, earlier than even he would usually rise, and certainly much earlier than Dís made the boys get up. However Dwalin had finally found the time to begin teaching Fíli his way around a sword and he wanted to begin first thing.

Beside Thorin's chair sat Fíli on a low stool as his mother plaited his hair. Back in the days of Erebor, when there had been so many more dwarflings, boys of similar ages would be grouped together to be taught at once. Tradition dictated that on the first day of their lessons, those from noble lineages – such as the line of Durin – would wear their hair in their familial styles.

It was a tradition that didn't really have a place in the Blue Mountains, but with so little of Erebor left it was something that Dís was not prepared to lose. Fíli may have been about to train on his own, taught by a family friend rather than the royal tutors, but he was still of the King's House and he would be presented as such.

Usually it was a struggle to make either of the boys sit still long enough for Dís to do more than run a brush through their hair. Fíli had an easier time as his thick, soft tresses were much more manageable than Kíli's fine, wild, and easily tangled strands, but both felt that it was a waste of good playing time. However the early hour, and his nervousness over the lesson ahead, had Fíli submitting to his mother's attentions without a sound.

Kíli sat on the floor beside his brother with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting on Fíli's leg. He was barely awake and kept drifting off, only to wake when he began to slide sideways and return to glaring at the floor. Dís described his behaviour as a little sullen. Thorin called it sulking. Frerin had been the same when it had been time for Thorin's first lesson but he'd been much more hostile to his elder brother. Fíli had been doing everything he could to ease the transition for Kíli, and Thorin was confident that there was nothing that could come between them.

Dis held out her hand to her brother as she reached the end of the braid in front of Fíli's ear. Thorin handed her a small silver clasp in the same style that he wore to hold the plait in place. Dís had made them herself but it wouldn't be long before the boys were old enough to fashion their own. Those would be the ones they would wear as adults to show their skill and heritage. They would also be the ones they would put in the hair of their own children when they reached this age.

Thorin shook his head. He was getting a little ahead of himself here; his nephews were barely more than babes themselves. Fíli suited the braids that marked him as a direct descendent of Durin. Dís attempted to appear proud when he turned round for her approval, but it was clear she despaired of how young he still was. Thorin nodded at him, giving him a rare smile that Fíli returned a little wanly. Kíli managed to wake up as his brother stood and reached up to tug at the new braids. Dís shooed his hands away but Fíli seemed heartened by the contact.

Thorin sucked in a deep breath through his pipe to catch the last of the leaves. Dwalin would soon arrive and he'd want to start immediately. Fíli was belting on his sword with a determined expression as Kíli hovered beside him. Kíli had demanded to watch Fíli's first lesson and Dwalin had agreed, saying that the more practice he had the better. Dís had reminded Dwalin just how terrifying she could be when she'd heard, and had twisted a promise from the warrior that Kíli would only watch. Thorin hadn't cared to ask how she'd done so, nor had he commented on how pale Dwalin had appeared afterward.

Dwalin was as fearsome as they came but he had the softest of spots for the boys, and would never let anything happen to them. Dís knew she didn't really have any cause to worry but it was hard to see her little boy taking his first steps towards adulthood. Fíli would be a fine warrior, like his uncle, like his grandfather, and like his great-grandfather. The less like his own father the better.

A solid knock at the door sounded through their modest house and Thorin looked down at Fíli. He looked so suddenly small that Thorin was almost seized by the desire to tell Dwalin to come another time. However the boys had already tumbled past him and headed for the door, eager to see his old friend.

Dís moved closer and put a hand on his arm that he covered with his.

"You will look after them, won't you?" she asked, looking up at him.

Thorin patted her hand, "They will be fine, I swear it."

She nodded and sighed, "I'd best get to work."

"You worry too much," he said, leaning down to drop a kiss on her hair.

"And you don't?" she laughed despite herself, giving him a look of amused disbelief.

"Ah, well, I'm the oldest, worrying is my responsibility."

"Are you coming, lad?" Dwalin's voice boomed from the entrance hall.

Thorin gave his sister one last reassuring glance and swept up his coat from the back of the chair and headed out after his nephews. Dís went to the door to wave them off, and resolved to let her brother shoulder the weight of care for now.

XXXXX

Dwalin was evidently enjoying himself. The forest clearing that he had led them to had been carefully chosen and lovingly prepared to provide the perfect start for Fíli's training. Thorin suspected that Dwalin was rather looking forward to having a protégé, and certainly one that Balin hadn't trained first.

Dwalin told Fíli to move into the centre of the clearing while he set about unbuckling the majority of his armour. Thorin walked to a fallen long at the beginning of the tree-line and positioned himself so that he would have a good view. For a moment Kíli hovered by the sidelines but it wasn't long until he trotted over to Thorin and crawled onto his lap. His uncle winced as he bounced around getting comfortable before leaning against Thorin's shoulder, little fingers curled into his hair.

The first half of Fíli's lesson was nothing exciting. Dwalin's personal fighting style could veer towards flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants but it had evolved through an in-depth knowledge of the basics. He spent a good long while ensuring Fíli was familiar with the proper grips and how to move the sword as if it was part of his arm rather than just something he was holding. Thorin watched with no small amount of pride as Fíli quickly grasped Dwalin's instructions. However with little excitement to be had Kíli had fallen back asleep, and lay tucked in the crook of Thorin's arm.

Dwalin was clearly pleased with Fíli's progress and willingness to listen to instruction, and walked to his pack to collect a training sword of his own. Thorin wasn't entirely sure where Fíli had picked up his reasonable nature – it certainly wasn't from himself, Dís or his father. Most dwarflings were headstrong and oft reacted negatively to criticism, especially in areas where they were expected to excel. Dwalin had corrected Fíli several times and, rather than sulking or losing his temper, Fíli had merely accepted the words and tried harder. If Thorin thought back to his own youth he couldn't say that he always behaved as well as his nephew. He really couldn't say it at all if he was honest.

Dwalin had obviously been expecting a repeat of Thorin and Frerin's antics and seemed a little wrong-footed by Fíli's calm demeanour. He'd obviously remembered Dís and her feelings regarding the well-being of her sons and the sword he'd chosen reflected it. It was made of the lightest wood that could be found around Ered Luin and couldn't be further from the thickness of the weapons Dwalin usually used. Thorin was relieved but had the sense not to show it. With that weapon even if Fíli was unable to dodge or block a blow then he would get nothing more than a few bruises.

"Now lad, I'll take a swing, and you bring yours up to block it, alright?" Dwalin said, waiting for Fíli to nod before moving into position.

Thorin smiled despite the flutter of fear in his chest at the picture before him. It was comical in a way – Dwalin was one of the tallest dwarves he had ever met and Fíli barely came up to his opponent's waist.

Dwalin moved his sword down relatively slowly, making sure to telegraph his movements so Fíli could follow it and react. The slapping sound of Dwalin's strike hitting Fíli's upturned blade woke Kíli with a start. Fíli smiled as Dwalin barked 'good, again!' and drew his sword around to aim at the boy's right side. Kíli clambered up from his spot, safe in his uncle's arms, to watch with keen interest.

Throughout the day Dwalin slowly increased the speed and difficulty of his strikes. One of the dwarves from Dís' forge arrived in the middle of the day to bring them lunch and repeat a warning from her to take it easy. Kíli was obviously desperate to join his brother but Thorin was thoroughly enjoying a rare day away from his papers and his forge. It was almost like the old days as the banter flowed between him and Dwalin and the exuberance of the two boys was contagious.

As the sun began to set Dwalin decided that Fíli had done plenty for the day. Thorin had forgotten just how much energy small children possessed. Even Dwalin was looking a little tired after a full day's training but Fíli was still trotting along chattering happily with Kíli. Kíli was full of admiration for his brother and was currently re-enacting his favourite moments from the day. Dwalin gave his friend a look that was part weariness and part admiration for how Thorin was able to cope with this level of activity all day.

Dís was home as the four of them trooped in and she immediately swept her boys into a tight hug. Both of them cried 'mama!' and complained that she was embarrassing them in front of Dwalin but made no real move to pull away. Thorin and Dwalin smirked at each other over their heads but Dwalin looked a little tense as Dís began to inspect Fíli for damage. He'd gained a couple of bruises on his hands where Dwalin's blade had caught his hands in a bad grip, but he was otherwise unhurt. Dís seemed pleased although she did shoot Dwalin a hard look to remind him that her son had always better be sent back to her in this condition.

"Did you have a good time Fíli?" she asked as they hung up their coats and moved towards the warmth of the fire in the kitchen for dinner.

"It was fun, mama!" he chirped.

"Fíli was 'mazing, mama!" Kíli almost shouted, "Dwalin was like 'whoosh!' and Fíli was like 'yahh!' and then –"

Dwalin and Thorin settled heavily into chairs as the boys continued filling their mother in on every minute detail of the day.

"He's got real potential, Thorin, I wouldn't be surprised if he earns his braids in the next few years," Dwalin said, gratefully accepting a mug of ale from Dís.

Thorin smiled, "Well, let's wait for him to grow some stubble before we start thinking of that."

XXXXX

A few weeks later Kíli had not accompanied his brother to his training session with Dwalin, instead choosing to stay with his mother and spend the day at the forge. Fíli was developing real proficiency in the basic skills and would soon be choosing a style of weapon to specialise in. Kíli knew that his brother preferred two short swords over everything else Dwalin had shown him, but was gamely trying everything.

Though Dís was refusing to relent and allow her younger son to train as well, she was less inflexible when it came to allowing him to help around the forge. Rather than simply sitting and watching, as all he could do with Fíli and Dwalin, he was able to do small tasks. Mainly these consisted of fetching things that his mother or the other dwarves needed, but sometimes he was allowed to pump the bellows or handle the tongs. His mother worked very hard and the heat of the forge often made him sleepy but it was worth it to have something to boast about to Fíli.

When they reached home after the day's work they were surprised to find Glóin in their kitchen. Apparently Dwalin had asked him to look after Fíli once their training session had finished but the boy had complained of a stomach ache and retired to bed. Dís sent Kíli to check on him while she served their guest some ale and discussed Glóin's wife's pregnancy.

Kíli hated having stomach ache, and wondered if Fíli had eaten too much as he wandered to their shared room at the end of the corridor. When he opened the door the room was darkened, but he could see the shape of his brother curled up on his side under the blankets. His first instinct was to jump on the bed but he didn't want to disturb Fíli too much so he settled for clambering up next to him.

"Fíli, mister Glóin says you have a tummy ache."

Fíli didn't reply, he just shifted under the blankets and seemed to curl further in on himself.

"I'll get that stuff mama gives us, so you can be better!" Kíli announced, patting his brother on the side of the head.

He was ready to leave but then noticed that his hand was wet where he'd patted his brother.

"Fíli?" he asked, his voice quiet and unsure.

Fíli snuffled, and said, "It's nothing," and it was clear as day to Kíli that he'd been crying.

Kíli threw himself at his brother and shook his shoulder, "What's the matter, Fíli? Is it your tummy?"

Fíli curled away even further and repeated that it was nothing. Kíli sat for a minute, bewildered. Fíli never cried, not even when he'd been really sick the previous summer. He was always the calm and caring one who made sure to dry Kíli's tears and stop whatever had caused them. His first instinct was to fetch his mother, or his uncle, but he had a feeling that Fíli didn't want anyone else to see him.

Inching closer he put both hands on his brother's shoulder and leaned over, "Please tell me, Fíli, I ... I can fix it."

"No, you can't, Kíli," Fíli's voice was as gentle as ever but there was a thread of despair that made Kíli want to shake him and force him to tell him everything would be alright.

"You don't know that," he countered.

Fíli sniffed a little but turned towards him, "It's me, Kíli, you can't fix me."

"Why do you need fixed? There's nothing wrong with you, Fíli – you're the best!" Kíli cried, curling his little hands in his brother's hair and tugging on it for emphasis.

"Dwalin doesn't think so," Fíli said, a bitter and resentful tone slipping into his voice.

Kíli made a confused noise but he was at least heartened that Fíli was speaking to him. "What did he say, Fíli?"

"He was trying to teach me to use a stupid battle-axe like the one he uses," he began, starting to get angry rather than upset, "and I was no good at it. He told me I was a waste of his time and that uncle would be ashamed of me."

"Uncle Thowin would never!" exclaimed Kíli.

"I did my best! I really did," Fíli said, lapsing back into hurt.

"I know you did, Fíli, you work so hard. He's stupid," he said with finality, causing Fíli to huff a weak laugh.

Kíli cuddled in close to his brother and began stroking Fíli's hair. It always calmed him down when Fíli did it to him and he would do whatever it took to make his brother feel better.

Down in the kitchen Dís was starting to wonder what was wrong with the boys. She'd expected that Kíli would have been back by now. She supposed that if Fíli was sick he was simply trying to avoid taking the unpleasant medicine and had roped Kíli into staying with him rather than telling her. She was just thinking of excusing herself to go check on them when Thorin came into the kitchen. He was almost straight from the forge as his hair and skin were covered in a layer of grit and grime.

"Evening, Glóin, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, gratefully accepting a glass of water from his sister.

"Evening, Thorin sir, Dwalin asked me to look after Fíli, and Dís here has been giving me plenty to think about when my child is born," he laughed.

Thorin chuckled, "I bet Dwalin didn't ask you kindly."

"That he did not, sir! But the news from the north must have been difficult to hear."

"What's happened?" asked Dís, a sudden motherly instinct creeping over her.

"News came this morn from the settlement he'd been organising – there's been another raid and his progress has been all but lost. Must be damn frustrating – he's been in a fine temper all day," Thorin explained, "He came into the forge this afternoon and I've rarely seen him so angered."

"He took Fíli for a lesson this morning," Dís said aloud, looking anxiously at the two dwarves.

"Young master Fíli did look a little shaken when Dwalin asked me to bring him home, but he said a stomach ache and I thought nothing more of it," Glóin said, following Dís' train of thought and casting a worried look in the direction Fíli had gone.

The look on Dís' face was thunderous and he knew Dwalin would be for it if he'd upset Fíli.

Glóin drained his mug of ale swiftly and rose, "I'll be on my way, sir, ma'm, I hope the young master is alright."

"Thank you, Glóin, give my regards to your wife, and if you see Dwalin you tell him to come here immediately," Dís' anger was almost palpable and Glóin nodded his assent before letting himself out.

Before the door had even closed Dís was moving towards her sons' bedroom, with her brother close behind. They paused to listen at the door and could hear Kíli chattering, describing his day at the forge in detail. Thorin was almost relieved but Dís could sense the agitation in the tone of her youngest.

Opening the door they were confronted by a strange inversion of the normal order of things. This time it was Fíli, curled up and unhappy, that was lying turned away from the door as Kíli played with his hair and desperately tried to raise a smile. On hearing the door open Kíli had immediately moved to place himself before his brother with a scowl on his face.

Dís moved forward, sweeping Kíli into one arm and sitting beside Fíli. Thorin reached out and took Kíli into his arms and sat on the chest at the foot of Fíli's bed. Kíli squirmed but Thorin murmured to him to hush and allow Dís to see her eldest.

"Fíli, how was your training today?" Dís probed gently, her hands itching to simply gather him up and hold him safe from the world.

"It was fine, mama," he answered, his voice still rough and totally undermining his words.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, mama."

Kíli squirmed in Thorin's hold and cried, "No, Fíli! Tell them mister Dwalin was mean to you! He said Fíli was a waste of time and that you'd be 'shamed of him, Uncle Thowin!"

"He didn't dare!" Dís all but roared.

Fíli sat up but kept his head bowed, and nodded glumly. Dís could resist no longer and pulled him close into her arms. She whispered soothing words and stroked his hair, rocking him back and forth. Kíli sat on Thorin's lap with folded arms – Fíli was too nice and Dwalin wouldn't get the telling off he deserved if his brother was left to tell the story.

Thorin shook his head in anger. He could well understand snapping at someone out of frustration, but to say such barbed things to little more than a child was outrageous. He was sure that once Dwalin had worked out his rage, had a few pints and slept them off, he'd be disgusted with himself for losing his temper and wounding Fíli so. He was a proud dwarf, but not so unbending that he would not beg Fíli's forgiveness the next day. Supposing there was any of him left once Dís was through with him.

Thorin slid an arm around Kíli's waist and lifted him over to his brother as he moved to sit beside Dís. Kíli immediately curled close to Fíli and Thorin placed a heavy hand on Fíli's riot of golden locks.

"You, and your brother, are my sister-sons, and as dear to me as anything in this world. I will never be ashamed of you, of either of you."

Fíli looked up, his eyes willing what his uncle said to be true. Kíli grinned as Thorin made everything right.

"Dwalin spoke in anger and he did not mean the things he said – he will hate what he has done. He cares for you both – do not let his temper harm your relationship with him."

Kíli scowled but Thorin raised a hand to forestall any complaints.

"Once your mother has gone through him like a dose of salts, I suspect you may be able to ask for whatever toys you would like as he seeks to make it up to you," he said, gifting them both a devious smirk.

Fíli even managed a smile and Kíli beamed up at him. With their mother and uncle there was nothing that could harm them.

XXXXX


	4. Chapter 4

**These seem to be getting longer and longer. I just have a lot of dwarf feels ok?**

**I've given Gimli's wife a name and based it around Dís' as she is the only female dwarf named so there's not a lot of precedent. Also, I stole two of Barahir's companion's names – I'm sure they won't mind.**

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXX**

Thorin was just finishing his porridge as the boys stumbled their way, still yawning, into the kitchen for their own breakfast. Their father hadn't returned home from the inn last night – passed out in the gutter probably – so Dís was in a good mood. Dís' good moods were infectious and Thorin had caught himself humming along to the tune she was singing softly. It also meant that the porridge had extra honey in, to the overwhelming delight of both her sons.

"What is Balin going to be teaching you about today, you two?" Dís asked.

The boys had been sitting with their heads close together and whispering – something that always made Thorin keep a keener eye out for mischief – and the question made them spring apart. This, of course, further reinforced Thorin's notion that something was afoot and he and Dís shared a significant look.

"He said he was going to tell us all about elves, mama," Fíli answered, and both he and his brother pulled a face.

Dís giggled and Thorin smirked. He wasn't sure they even knew exactly what an elf was, but the attitude of their elders who had suffered at Erebor had evidently filtered down to them. Balin was certainly the best choice for this part of their education: he was wise enough to be balanced and fair, informative without overwhelming prejudice.

"I'm sure it will be very enlightening," Thorin said, suppressing a smile as Dís hid hers in her cooking.

Kíli pouted, "I wanna hear more about Duwin the Deathless."

Thorin was seized with an urge and reached over to ruffle Kíli's hair, "I have no doubt that Balin has many more tales saved up for you about our forefathers."

There was a moment of quiet in which Fíli and Kíli traded what Thorin assumed they thought were subtle glances.

"Mama, we were thinking –" Fíli began and Dís turned around, controlling a giggle as Thorin gave her a look that plainly said 'I told you so'.

"Yes, boys?"

Whatever request Fíli was about to finish was interrupted by insistent knocking on the front door. The early hour and the heavy timbre of the sound assured Thorin that the matter was urgent and, motioning for Dís and the boys to stay in the kitchen, he swept away to the door.

The boys looked a little worried so Dís attracted their attention by topping up their bowls. They looked to their uncle so much that they picked up on his body language immediately.

"What were you going to say, Fíli?" she asked, and thanked Mahal that they were still easily distracted children as they seemed to forget Thorin's agitation.

"Well, it's been a couple of days now so I'm sure it'd be fine, and you know that Glóin likes us, and –"

Dís waved her hand, cutting him off, "Come to the point, dear one."

"Can we go see the baby today?" Fíli asked, and both boys grinned hopefully up at her, doing their best to melt her with their earnest eyes.

Glóin's wife Lílis had given birth to their baby a couple of days before and the happy news had spread throughout Ered Luin within hours. Both boys had demanded to see the baby they saw as their new playmate immediately. It had taken a united front from Dís and Thorin to calm their excitement enough to explain that Lílis would be extremely tired and that the baby needed to rest. It had been something of a difficult birth and, though Lílis was already complaining of being coddled, Glóin had made her remain in the healing house until she was stronger.

"The baby will not be able to play with you yet, you will just be able to look at him," she warned, and both boys were eager in their assent that they just wanted to see.

"What's his name again, mama?" asked Kíli, sliding his mostly empty bowl over to his brother so Fíli could finish it.

"I believe Glóin has chosen the name Gimli. I am sure the three of your names will be said in a breath as you get older, an exasperated breath I shouldn't wonder," she smiled.

"So can we go? Please, mama! We'll be so good, won't we Kíli?"

"Promise, mama!"

Dís raised a hand and both boys subsided back into their seats, though the hopeful expressions remained plastered over their faces.

"I shall drop into the healing house on my way from the forge, and _if_ Lílis is well enough and agrees, and _if_ you behave during your lesson with Balin today, I will take you to see the baby. Alright?"

"Yes, mama!" they both shouted, and bounced in their seats with the excitement of not being told no immediately.

All frivolity ceased the second Thorin stormed back into the kitchen to pick up his coat and stamp into his heavy work boots. He glowered as if he were angry but Dís knew him well enough to see it for the mask for the uncertainty he truly felt. Moving to her boys and putting a hand on each of their heads she stopped him leaving without explaining a little of what was happening.

"There are men within the city. Rangers. Two of their party were gravely injured by the orc pack they were hunting and have come here for aid," he said, his tone clipped.

"How many?" Dís asked.

"Four – the gate guard came to me to ask what should be done with them. I have ordered them to be escorted to the house of healing – I saw no other choice," he said, his eyes not quite meeting hers as he silently asked her if he had acted correctly.

"There was no other choice, Thorin, you know how rangers talk – we cannot be seen to be so unbending as to deny them aid."

Thorin's relief showed in the minute loosening of his shoulders and he nodded at her. Reaching across he patted both boys on the shoulder and ordered them to be good for Balin.

Both boys looked up at her with wide eyes, "There are really men in the city?" Kíli asked.

Men never came into the city proper. There was something of an unspoken agreement that men did not want to venture inside and the dwarves considered them to be not entirely welcome. The closest they came was the small resting stop and trading point out on the plains in the shadow of the mountains. This was where goods were delivered and where other races came to collect the materials they relied on the dwarves to provide. However there was no place for healing beyond the most minor of wounds so the injured rangers had to be brought into the new heartland of the dwarves.

Fíli and Kíli were still much too young to be allowed outside the walls of the city and Dís was certain they had never set eyes on one of the race of men in real life. Naturally they had heard of them, the same they had heard of elves, but beyond trade they were a race they had little history with.

"It certainly seems that way, little one."

"Do you think we'll get to meet them?" Fíli asked, his tone much more excited than his brother's – he had always been the more curious of the two.

Dís smiled, "They're rangers, I'm afraid. No doubt as soon as their wounds have been treated they'll be off into the wilderness again. I shouldn't think they'll be here long."

Kíli looked slightly relieved but Fíli seemed disappointed. Dís assured them that once they were grown there would be plenty of opportunities to meet the race of men, and that they weren't terribly interesting anyway.

"Dear me, look at the time, go wash your hands and faces – Balin will be here soon!" she shooed them away upstairs and listened with a smile as Fíli started postulating about what the men might look like and how they might act.

True to her word, Balin arrived not long after and settled himself in the living room to begin the boys' lessons on elves. Dís kissed both boys on the head and made to leave for her forge with another reminder to behave.

"Remember to ask missus Lílis if we can come see Gimli!" Fíli cried, tugging on the back of her work skirt as Kíli nodded frantically beside her.

"As if I would hear the end of it if I were to forget!" she laughed, kissed them both again and left.

Balin smiled fondly down at them. There was a larger gap between himself and Dwalin than there was between Dís' boys and he remembered being old enough to be this excited about a new arrival.

"Now boys, settle down, I'm sure the new master Gimli will still be there later. Now, how much do you know about elves...?"

XXXXX

Dís visited Lílis after her work and was assured that she'd be delighted to see the boys.

"In truth Dís, I'm dying for the company – there is nothing to do in here and Glóin is adamant that I'll be in here for another two days at least!" she had said.

"What a strain it must be to have such a caring husband!" Dís had teased.

Their laughter woke little Gimli and Dís promised to return soon with her own children in tow to provide Lílis with some amusement.

Balin had tasked the boys with writing out an elvish family tree to illustrate the differences between the long-lived Eldar and their own, more populated, families. Dís noted that there were several deeply unflattering doodles of elves with big pointy teeth and huge eyebrows drawn into the borders. Balin seemed to have noticed as well, and was puffing on his pipe and casting them proud glances every so often.

"Lílis says we can visit Gimli –" she was cut off by the two boys cheering and rushing around to find their boots so they could go.

Balin laughed at the look on her face, "I seem to remember three little children as irrepressible as these – such trouble they were!"

"Well I never, Balin! I was no such thing! The boys perhaps – but then they were so simple-" she squealed as Thorin pinched her side.

"Simple, indeed?"

She turned and slapped him on the arm, "Don't sneak up on me like some sort of wraith, Thorin!"

He laughed, "Vigilance, dear sister. Now what has the boys so excited? Had I not been paying attention they would have bowled me over in the corridor."

"The boys want to see Gimli, and Lílis said they were welcome to visit this afternoon."

"Aye Glóin has been fair boasting about his bouncing boy in the mines today," Thorin said, "You'd best catch them before they leave without their coats, sister."

Dís muttered affectionately about stupid brothers and rushed off to make sure the boys didn't even think about leaving without enough clothes to keep out the chill. Thorin turned to Balin.

"Shall we get an ale, old friend? No doubt you could use one after looking after those terrors all day," he asked.

"Aye, an ale would right hit the spot. Say now, how are those rangers?"

"They will survive – it seems they were not too badly hurt and the healers have done their work," Thorin replied, the relief evident in his manner.

Balin stroked his whitening beard, "Where are they in the house of healing? I can imagine the sick won't have welcomed such a disturbance."

Thorin nodded, "Aye, that they would not. They've been put on the highest floor, away from the other patients. It seemed agreeable to them also."

"Young master Fíli will be disappointed. I think he was rather hoping to see them when they visit the child," Balin smiled.

"That inquisitive streak will get that child in trouble. Now, I believe we were talking about an ale?"

"Lead the way, laddie."

XXXXX

Dís ordered the boys to remain quiet as they entered the house of healing. It was clearly a struggle when they were so excited, but the other patients wouldn't be as keen to see two bouncing dwarflings as Lílis.

Glóin was held in high regard in Ered Luin, and his status had allowed Lílis a private room a couple of floors above the main wards. Dís held their hands as they manoeuvred through the bustle of the entrance hall to the stairs. Fíli strained at his mother's hold and looked around as much as he was able in the hope of spotting one of the rangers. Kíli was much more interested in the wounds and sicknesses of those around him, and watched them with wide-eyed interest.

Lílis was true to her word and delighted to see the boys. While Dís settled herself in the chair beside the bed, the boys were directed to the low crib on the other side. Their mother gave them a stern reminder that they were just to look and Lílis smiled with a new mother's pride on her baby being the source of so much excitement.

Both of them crowded over the rim, leaning into the basket to look at their new friend.

"He's so tiny," murmured Kíli.

"So were you," Fíli reminded him.

Gimli was a strong and healthy dwarven baby with his father's voluminous red hair and his mother's dark eyes. He was somewhere between waking and sleeping as he'd been fed and lain down just before they had arrived.

"Hello, Gimli," Fíli said.

"I'm Kíli, and this is my brother Fíli," Kíli followed, pointing at them both.

Dís and Lílis shared a fond and amused glance, neither of them having the heart to tell the boys that not only could Gimli not understand them, he wouldn't be able to really see them either. A dwarf's eyes were sharpest in the dark but it took time before the eye settled after birth.

"We'll be best friends when you get bigger," Fíli announced while Kíli nodded beside him.

Glóin entered the room in time to hear this little pronouncement and grinned heartily, "Aye, son, I'm sure these two will get you into all sorts of mischief!"

"Mister Glóin! When can we play with him?" Kíli broke away from the crib to look up at him hopefully.

Dís laughed, "You boys are so impatient! It won't be for a while to come yet."

Kíli scrunched up his face, "Why not?"

"When you were a baby, Kíli, you were all floppy. You couldn't sit up by yourself or anything," Fíli joined his brother and tugged his hair to show he wasn't making fun of him.

"Really, mama?"

"Of course, Kíli. Your brother was the same when he was first born – all babies are that way. Gimli will grow bigger and stronger and then, if you ask very nicely, Lílis might allow you to play with him," Dís answered.

Glóin smiled at his wife, who returned it. They had all seen how protective Fíli was of his brother and it was clear the protective instinct had stirred in both of Dís' boys on seeing little Gimli. With so few other dwarf children within Ered Luin it was a relief to know that the boys had taken a liking to him so he would have company when he was older.

Gimli suddenly started to shift in his crib and murmured unhappily. Glóin reached over the picked up the tiny bundle, settling him into his arms and sitting on the bed beside his wife.

The adults soon engaged themselves in baby-conversation and, without being able to see the baby, Fíli and Kíli quickly lost interest. They stood quietly for a moment until a thought dawned on Fíli. It was a thought that was almost guaranteed to get them into trouble. For a moment he wondered if he should leave Kíli with their mother when he acted on this thought, so his brother would be spared the lecture he was sure to get later.

However it was as if Kíli shared a mental link with him, and turned his head to look at his brother. Fíli gestured with his head towards the door and Kíli nodded immediately. As they inched away while the adults were distracted, Fíli remembered that he'd taken the heat for Kíli after he'd broken a vase the previous week. This would make them even.

Fíli had returned to a chest beside the kitchen to pick up a pair of gloves before they'd left, and had heard Thorin tell Balin where the rangers had been placed. He'd been half working on a plan to sneak away from the forge the next day to go see them but this was even better. Most of those working in the house of healing were too busy to notice the two little dwarves, and those that did assumed that their mother or uncle wouldn't be far behind them.

When they reached the top floor it was obvious which room the men had been given. Their door was a little ajar and the boys could hear voices with strange accents discussing their next moves. Fíli started to move towards the door but Kíli lingered near the stairs. Fíli fancied his brother was a little scared. He was as well, but his curiosity was winning the battle over his apprehension.

"We don't have to go in, Kíli," he whispered.

"But you want to see them," Kíli replied, chewing his lip.

Fíli nodded, and Kíli reached out to hold his hand tight, "Come on, mama will see we've gone soon."

"Ok, Kíli, I'll look after you, I promise."

They crept towards the door and Fíli reached up to knock lightly. The voices stopped immediately and light footsteps approached the door. A man with a bald head and a scraggly beard opened it further and didn't immediately see them as he looked around at his own head height. Kíli clung even harder to his brother's hand. This man was massive! He had more than a foot on even Dwalin and they barely came up to his knees.

He eventually remembered to look down, seeing as their hosts were smaller, and was surprised to see two tiny dwarflings looking up at him.

"Who is it?" a voice asked from inside.

"I think it's two little ones," he knelt down, "What can I do for you, young masters?"

Kíli shrunk away behind his brother and Fíli shuffled his feet before replying, "Well, sir, we haven't seen a man before and we were curious."

The ranger studied his face, and on being sure there was no ulterior motive in their big eyes, he stood and invited them inside. Fíli gave his brother an excited look but Kíli had come over all shy and clung to him like a shadow as they snuck inside. Two men lay on pallets and another sat against the opposite wall sharpening a long blade. One of the injured men was unconscious but the other was propped up against his pillows and watched the two little ones with interest.

"Are your injuries better?" Fíli asked, remembering his manners as the man who had let them in moved to his own seat and picked up the bow he had been oiling.

"I'm in no danger, young sir, thanks to your healers," the man on the pallet answered, "Dear me, Dagnir, your sword is bigger than either of them!" he teased as the boys blushed.

"Curious about us big folk they are," the bald man, Ragnor, said.

"Nothing that interesting about us rangers, lads, we patrol the wilds keeping orcs and other foul creatures away from the nice folks of this land."

"Does your sword have a name?" asked Fíli, approaching Dagnir and looking on the huge blade with awe.

As they chattered Kíli found his eyes drawn to the bow that Ragnor was rubbing with a soft cloth. It was a longbow and easily twice Kíli's current height. On the floor beside Ragnor's seat he could see a long quiver filled with dark wood arrows with black feather fletching.

"You never seen a bow before, son?" Ragnor asked, seeing where Kíli's attention lay.

"Not one like yours, sir," he replied, inching over to get a better look.

Very few dwarves used bows. They were only really used for hunting as many considered their use in battle to be cowardly and more in common with the likes of elves. Real dwarves thought unless they could see the white of an enemy's eyes they were not close enough to the action. The only bow he'd seen was short and stocky, with enough punching power to bring down the deer of the plains around the mountains. Ragnor's bow was slim and flexible, with intricate carving sweeping up around the wood and the string taught enough to slice.

"This one might be a bit big for you, son," Ragnor replied.

Kíli blushed some more and Ragnor took pity on him by letting him hold one of his arrows. On the other side of the room Fíli was being given a lecture on proper sword maintenance after he had revealed he'd started his own training but hadn't yet progressed to real weapons. The rangers seemed happy enough to talk to the little ones in a way they hadn't with the adult dwarves. It was no secret that the dwarves were a secretive race and resisted the interference of the others of Middle Earth. They had been almost surprised to be given such help as they had received and a little conversation outside of their own was a welcome distraction.

The boys soaked up as much as they could before another knock on the door interrupted them. It was one of the nurses and the agitation was clear on her face.

"I'm sorry to disturb you gentlemen, but you haven't seen –" she cut herself off as she saw the sheepish faces of Dís' boys. "Your mother said I might find you in here. The two of you know better than to run off, get back to her at once and leave these gentlemen to their rest!"

Fíli and Kíli scampered back towards the door, but turned and bowed before they left, "Thank you for talking to us!" Fíli said.

"Not at all, young masters, now get back to your mother before she worries."

"And remember all I said about swords!"

The men's laughter rang in the corridor as the boys tumbled back down the stairs and back into Lílis' room. Gimli was sleeping soundly in his father's arms and Dís was preparing to leave, standing with her arms folded before the bed. Glóin and Lílis gave them amused looks from behind their mother and Dís pointed to the door so as not to wake the baby again.

Dís did not say anything on the walk back to the house and Fíli and Kíli knew better than to talk. The axe would fall on them but Dís at least wouldn't embarrass them outside their home. Once they'd hung their coats up she directed them into the living room where they could hear Balin and their uncle talking.

Thorin had always been able to read them like a book and immediately saw from their faces that they had been misbehaving. They stood in front of him, looking at the floor and looking the picture of chastisement. Behind them he could see that Dís was struggling to keep her face blank. She was amused and fond and so whatever they'd done couldn't have been that bad. However they weren't to know that so he put on his bed severe expression and asked what they had done.

They didn't answer so Dís supplied him with the information, "These two slipped away in the hospital to see those rangers – caught red-handed in their room they were."

Balin smirked behind his pipe. He'd expected as much, though he hadn't thought Fíli would have done so this quickly.

"What do you have to say for yourselves, then?" Thorin asked, resolutely ignoring the amusement from his sister, and his oldest friend.

Kíli kept his gaze to the floor, showing Thorin that it had been all his brother's idea. However Fíli looked up long enough to say, "No one said we _couldn't_ go see them."

Thorin shook his head at his clever nephew – usually dwarves didn't pick up on the vagaries of language until they were older. Dís looked far more proud than cross, but it was clear that their disappearance had shaken her a little, even if she knew where'd they'd be.

"Do not run away from your mother. What if something had happened to you? You will eat some supper, and then go straight to bed – there will be no story tonight," Thorin said imperiously.

Fíli and Kíli made a show of looking aghast but it was obvious they'd been expecting much worse. When they had been sent to wash their hands for dinner Balin finally allowed himself to chuckle, soon joined by Dís. Thorin smiled, remembering times long past when they had been forced to face their father in such a way.

"They are good boys, Dís, clever and headstrong – they will make you proud."

"If they don't age me before my time, I thought my heart stopped when I saw they were missing."

"They can't go far now, you just wait until they're a bit older, then they'll turn some hairs grey!"

"I do not find that reassuring, Balin."

XXXXX

In the darkness of the night Kíli slipped out of his bed and into his brother's. Fíli had been dozing but moved enough to make room and draw the blanket around Kíli's tiny shoulders.

"Wha's the matter, Kíli?" he mumbled.

Kíli buried his face in his brother's chest and whispered, "I want a bow, Fíli."

Fíli tensed for a moment but then relaxed, "Alright, Kíli."

Kíli breathed easier. He had been so scared that his brother would have told him he was silly and it was un-dwarvish to want a bow. Thorin was bound to say so. But Fíli would always accept him.

XXXXX


	5. Chapter 5

**Followtherainbowbridge – I do take requests! Hope this is the sort of thing you're after.**

**If anyone else has any ideas for what they'd like to see in the next chapters I'm happy to see what I can do.**

**Enjoy some snowy dwarflings!**

**XXXXX**

"You two watch your hands now," Dís warned as she passed them.

"Yes, mama!" Fíli and Kíli chorused from their seat next to the smelter.

The winter had come in hard to Ered Luin. For the past two weeks the skies had been clear and bright, and the wind fierce. The cold had seeped through even the rock of the mountain, and the city suffered under the icy chill. Thorin had ordered that all the wood and coal be distributed to the households of the city to keep the families under his care from freezing. Dís' forge was one of the few still running as orders were still coming in from the more temperate parts of Middle Earth.

Dwalin, and those under his command, had been given the task of braving the elements to ensure that supplies continued to arrive, so Fíli had more time to spend huddled up with his brother. They'd been spending their days in their mother's forge as the fires kept it much warmer than their house. At nights Thorin piled the wood high in the fireplace in their room and locked the fire-guard into place to keep them safe. Kíli had migrated into Fíli's bed as it was slightly bigger, and Dís had found extra blankets to lay over them.

The past night had been warmer, relatively, and Fíli had been forced to kick off a couple of layers before he'd burned up. Kíli hated the cold more than anything and slept soundly, swaddled so that only his dark hair was visible. However it wasn't warm enough that they were prepared to forego absorbing the molten heat of the smelter, and Dís had seen to it that they were given a little bench beside it. Not only did it keep the chill away but it also kept them out of trouble when they weren't fetching things or watching their mother work.

Currently they sat at each end of the bench, the toys Kíli had brought with him spread in the space between them. At the last market Kíli had picked something of a strange toy: a kneeling figure with its bow-string drawn back, an arrow ready to fly. Fíli had attempted to run interference by not drawing any attention to it thus making it appear that this was nothing out of the ordinary. However he knew his mother had given her youngest a strange look at the time. Thorin had also watched them more carefully as they played that evening. There were no secrets between their mother and uncle – she was bound to have told him about Kíli's odd choice.

The door opened and a blast of icy air followed Glóin's brother, Óin, into the forge. Óin was a healer of some repute, and his expertise were so in demand that he rarely left the house of healing. However with the weather Thorin had ordered that the gate guards be changed every eight hours so no dwarf was left to endure the biting cold for too long. Therefore almost every able-bodied dwarf who wasn't working at the forges was taking a turn to watch the entrance to the city. Óin, busy with his duties caring for the sick and injured, had let his side-arm sword fall into disrepair. In battle he preferred a reinforced metal stave but that was too unwieldy for use on the gates. He'd come to Dís to get the sword cleaned and sharpened before Dwalin returned and embarked on one of his feared inspections.

"Morning, Lady Dís," he called respectfully as he walked to the smelter to warm his hands, "Oh, and morning to you too, young masters!"

"Hello, mister Óin!" they chirped.

"I hope you two are behaving yourselves – burns are nasty things," he said, giving them both a pointed look.

"Of course, mister Óin!" they agreed, they had both seen the painful wheals and scars that forging had left their mother and uncle.

Dís had heard Óin come in, but had to leave the boys to entertain him for a minute as she folded the metal under her hammer before it cooled. Once she'd dropped the new dagger into the water with a furious hissing sound she wiped her hands and walked to the ready-rack to pick up Óin's sword. By the time she'd walked over to the smelter Óin had been drawn into the in-depth world of Kíli's imagination, and was kneeling beside the bench with a figure in hand.

"Here you are, Óin," she said.

When he didn't turn around she repeated herself slightly louder. Óin was only a near-decade older than Glóin but had damaged his hearing as a youngster in mining accident and was starting to go a little deaf.

"Thank you, Dís; I was dreading the lecture I'd get from Dwalin if he'd seen the state of that blade," he laughed.

"Don't you worry; I'm sure he'll find something to shout about, the cold makes his temper shorter than usual. Is that your shift finished?" she asked.

Óin nodded, "Just as well, too. The snow's already a couple of inches deep and still falling. We should have quite a drift by tomorrow."

Dís didn't even have to look at her boys to know that they had both stopped dead and were staring at Óin. Snow was something of a fascination for them after Thorin had described it once a couple of years ago. The previous winter there had been a modest snowfall that had covered the plains before the city. Fíli and Kíli had begged to be allowed out of the city to play in it, and had promised all sorts from tidying their room to helping around the forge.

Thorin and Dís had discussed the matter and had agreed that while Fíli was big enough, Kíli was still too little to brave the cold. Kíli had been near on inconsolable when they had broken their verdict to the two of them. Fíli was ecstatic for a half-second but then saw the disappointment on his brother's face. He gathered Kíli up, letting him cry on his shirt, and begged his mother and Thorin to reconsider.

"The snow will be too deep for him, Fíli, he's still very young," Thorin had attempted to reason with them.

"I'm sorry Kíli, I just don't want you to get cold, my little one," Dís appealed to her son's soft feelings.

Kíli had curled up into his brother's lap but nodded, subsiding into sullenness once he realised he was spoiling Fíli's potential enjoyment of the snow.

Fíli had looked between his brother and his uncle, suspecting that he was the main bulwark against Kíli leaving the city. Dís loved them desperately, but it was definitely Thorin who suffered more from the urge to coddle them. Their mother was more prepared to allow them to make mistakes so they could learn their consequences. Thorin, however, tended to hover in a manner reminiscent of a mother hen when they did anything that could possibly be considered risky.

"But, it won't be the same without Kíli," he said softly.

The slight quaver of unhappiness broke neatly through Thorin's defences. Fíli didn't look at him, fearing he would overplay his hand. Dís gave her brother a mightily unimpressed look as he turned to her, desperate to fix her boys' unhappiness. He coughed into his hand and glanced away again – Dís was sure that if she could see his ears they'd be flushed with embarrassment. She hid a smirk and resigned herself to once again being 'the bad guy'. If her husband was any use when it came to the boys she would make him fill this role.

"I'm sorry Kíli, but it's still no."

Fíli nodded and, in deference to his brother, decided not to accompany Thorin on his trip to the trading post. Even when Thorin had come to him when he was alone to check that he was really sure. Kíli had told him with a watery smile to just go and tell him what it was like, but Fíli hadn't changed his mind. Although what he'd said to Thorin had been calculated to sway his uncle, that didn't mean it wasn't the truth. Nothing was the same if Kíli wasn't there to share it.

Kíli had grown a lot in the last year and Dís was sure that she wouldn't be able to deny him again – not when Fíli had come so much closer to adulthood in the previous months. Fíli and Kíli seemed to be thinking the same thing, and she hoped that her brother was feeling up to the snow-bound adventure he was soon to be going on.

XXXXX

Dís had to stop looking at her brother. She had to simply because if she kept looking she was going to laugh at the thoroughly grumpy expression on his face.

Naturally, the boys had again demanded that Thorin take them out to play in the snow. She said she would allow it given several provisos – most of which revolved around staying close to their uncle and coming inside before they got too cold and wet. Thorin had agreed, clearly eager to make up for not doing so the previous year.

However he clearly hadn't anticipated just how excited his little nephews were about seeing snow properly for the very first time. Therefore he hadn't thought to wake at an hour they considered acceptable. This, in turn, had led to Dís opening the door to his room for them to leap onto the bed and tug on his covers, and his braids, until he woke up. The irritated growling had woken her sluggard husband in his room but there was no danger that he would wish to take them with that hangover.

Now Thorin was sat at the kitchen table having a fortifying smoke and glaring at her as she collected their warmest outdoor things. Fíli and Kíli were crowded around him and chattering incessantly about all the things they should do when they got past the gates and onto the plains. Dís knew that they would be allowed three, perhaps four, feet outside of the city gates and no more than a foot away from their uncle if he had anything to say about it.

Thorin's early morning ire was reserved solely for his sister, as he shifted to allow Kíli to lean over his lap to talk even faster and more excitedly with Fíli. Dís had trained the boys well when it came to respecting personal boundaries, so the only reason they had come into his room was because she had let them. He resolved that the next time his beloved sister wished to enjoy a quiet morning he would send them right back into her room.

Dís had ensured the boys' little boots were properly waxed to keep out the snow. She'd also found two pairs of leather gloves that were a little large for their small hands but would stop their woollen gloves becoming sodden. They'd put on their long thermal underwear and warm tunics and trousers, and Dís had pulled their hair back into loose braids to fit under knitted hats. As they clambered into their overcoats Thorin couldn't suppress a fond smile – completely dressed they looked more suited for an expedition to Helcaraxë than just outside the city gates.

Had he been facing the snow by himself he wouldn't have bothered dressing so warmly, but he had to lead by example and pulled on his thickest coat with the fur collar. Once he was sure the boys were as protected from the elements as it was possible to be, he kissed his sister's hair, murmured threats of dire retribution, and led the boys out of the house.

As they walked through the city it was clear to the boys just how much of an effect the cold weather was having. Every dwarf who didn't have immediate business was huddled around their home fires with their families. Thorin even considered the city to be quiet enough to relax his hold on Fíli's hand and allow him to walk next to him. He still kept a hold on Kíli's little hand though; it wasn't that quiet.

The gate guards nodded to him as he came to the main entrance, and Thorin listened attentively while they gave him a quick report. One of them produced a little honey treat and broke it in half to give each of the boys a piece, putting his finger to his lips so they would keep it secret from their uncle. Both of them shoved it into their mouths eagerly and grinned up at the guard, who patted them on the head before Thorin finished talking to the leader.

"Come on, you two, – the path down to the trading post is relatively clear," he said as one of the dwarves opened the small door in the gates to allow them through and out of the city.

Thorin couldn't keep stop the smile when Fíli and Kíli actually gasped as they set foot outside. Óin had been right: the snow had come down through the night and was at least a foot high on either side of the path. The air was clear and cold and the sky an ominous white that promised more snow in the hours to come. Fíli reached out and touched the snow, both he and Kíli watching in amazement as it crumbled away in his hand.

Thorin swept up a handful of snow as they walked and showed the boys how it compacted to form a solid shape. Then he demonstrated how to roll the ball in the snow to make it larger.

"I remember when we were children we used to make snow figures – I believe the Durin the Deathless your mother, your late uncle, and I made was finer than any sculpture," he said, smiling sadly at the faraway memory.

"Will you help us build one, uncle?" asked Fíli, looking up at him, already covered in snow down his front from trying to pick some up.

Thorin swallowed thickly at the wave of emotion that flushed through him at such a question. In that moment he missed dear Frerin so much that it was almost a physical pain. At the same time he felt as though even though he was not the father of these wonderful boys he could love no one more.

"Uncle Thowin?" Kíli asked, frowning up at the strange, frozen expression on his uncle's face.

Thorin quickly shook his head to dispel the thoughts and managed a smile down at them, "It is nothing, little one. We should make for the trading post – your mother will have words with me if you get chilled."

The post stood in an area clear of snow as the fires within spread their heat. The dwarves inside were delighted to see the little princes, and even abandoned the warmth of the hearth to talk to them. Again Thorin was distracted by his duties in listening to the report, but the boys were easily occupied by the other guards.

Thorin wasn't sure exactly who was to blame for teaching the boys that snowballs could be thrown without hurting the target. Once he found out he vowed that they would be cleaning the stables for the foreseeable future. It took all of two minutes for the whole post to be in uproar – every dwarf present hiding behind snow drifts and other bulwarks as the snow flew. Someone, he suspected Fíli judging by the horrified yet victorious look on his nephew's face, even managed to catch him in the side of the head with a snowball so loosely compacted he was showered with powdery snow.

The other dwarves had frozen in place, not wanting to disrespect their leader. However Thorin could not bear to put an end to his nephew's fun, and merely swept up a handful of snow of his own. The match lasted until their hands had gone numb and most were soaked through their protective layers. Thorin shook his head to dislodge as much snow as he could from his mane before checking on his nephews. Their eyes were bright with excitement but their cheeks and noses had started to go red from exposure, and the hair that wasn't covered by their hats was sopping wet.

They crowded around him as everyone sought to catch their breath, both from running around and from laughing so hard at each other.

"Uncle Thowin, can we build a Duwin now?"

"I'm sorry for hitting you, uncle Thorin! I was aiming beside you!"

The two of them spoke as one and Thorin had to listen carefully to separate out their words. He drew them close and knelt down to assess them better.

"Are you two cold, my little ones?" he asked, using his best 'and you'd better not lie to me' tone.

"No!" they chorused, evidently suspecting that if they answered in the affirmative he would take them home.

He gave them a stern look, raising his eyebrow in question. As he suspected they shuffled under his gaze and shared a look as they attempted to work out how to say they were without him sweeping them off back home.

"As I thought," he said, rising and taking their hands, "Come on, home."

Both boys immediately clamoured that they weren't cold at all, and there was still so much to be done in the snow. For a moment it looked as though the guards may have supported them, but a stern look from Thorin reminded them that his word was final.

"The snow is not going anywhere, however if I bring two frozen little boys home to their mother I will be in serious trouble. We will come back," Thorin assured them as the guards shared a shiver at the thought of angering Lady Dís.

The boys accepted this – their uncle was always as good as his word. Both were secretly a little relieved; the cold and wet was more uncomfortable than they'd expected now they weren't running around. The guards waved as they trooped off obediently after their uncle and set about warming themselves up as well.

Thorin could hardly feel his nose on the way back up to the city. So when Kíli sneezed, wiping his face on his sleeve, he thought nothing of it.

XXXXX

Thorin slept lightly. Even something as small as someone moving around elsewhere in the house was usually enough to wake him. He had been sleeping especially lightly as Dís had left for Glóin's house a couple of hours previously in an attempt to help with little Gimli's colic. With her watching the baby, both Glóin and Lílis could get some desperately needed sleep. Part of his mind remained awake when Dís was away; reminding him that he was the only one looking after the boys.

Therefore when there was the sound of little footsteps coming towards his door followed by frantic knocking Thorin was already up and halfway across the room before he was properly conscious. He pulled open the door and immediately crouched once he saw Fíli's wild golden locks, completely mussed from sleep.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asked, sweeping Fíli's hair from his face.

Fíli opened his mouth to speak but a fit of sneezing cut off whatever he was going to say. Thorin reached up to a set of drawers beside the door and drew out a handkerchief. When he tipped Fíli's face up to help wipe his nose he could feel the heat coming from his skin, and that his eyes had a slightly glassy cast.

"Fíli, are you alright?" he asked more firmly.

Fíli swayed a little but nodded, "I think something's wrong with Kíli, uncle!" his tone was as frantic as his knocking.

Thorin stood and picked Fíli up; wincing at the heat coming from his nephew as he almost ran into the boys' bedroom. The snow had insulated the mountains somewhat but the air was still cold and he wished for a second that he'd thought to put his robe on over his sleeping shirt. Fíli had left the door open and the heat from their fire was escaping into the hallway. Once they'd reached the room Thorin put Fíli down to close the door and he immediately ran to his brother's side.

Thorin followed close behind and, although Fíli was clearly ill, his brother was worse. He'd kicked off all his blankets and lay in the cold air in just his thin sleep wear. He was asleep but his breathing was short and ragged, and he would shiver violently from time to time before settling again. Thorin didn't even have to press his hand to Kíli's forehead to feel the burning heat. He cursed under his breath in Khuzdul before looking up at Fíli. His eldest nephew was frightened, and the look he cast Thorin's way almost broke his heart.

"It is just a fever, Fíli, he will be alright," he said, his voice firm but gentle as he put his hand on Fíli's shoulder.

Fíli nodded but the movement was jerky, and Thorin could see that he was suffering too. He supposed it was Fíli's age, and the terrible fever he'd had the previous year, that meant he was coping better than his brother.

"You were this sick last year, do you remember? In fact you were much worse, and you were fine, weren't you?" he continued, hoping that his calm words would dull some of the fear in Fíli's tense shoulders.

"Yes, uncle," he said, though his voice wavered and he was soon seized by another fit of sneezing.

"You stay here," Thorin said, pulling a blanket round Fíli and tucking the corners under him, "I'll get some medicine and I'll be right back, alright?"

Fíli nodded again, looking less terrified but thoroughly miserable. Thorin cursed again and moved quickly through the house to the kitchen where he was sure Dís kept her medicinal supplies. She was going to throttle him – he'd taken the boys out in the snow and they'd fallen ill. He may as well starting writing his eulogy now. The rational part of his mind knew that these illnesses were rampant within the city due to the cold, and the snow was not the direct cause, but Dís' motherly instincts would fail to see it that way.

However he still wished she was there. Once he'd reached adulthood his constitution had become as the stone they lived under, and he himself had not been ill for many years. Even when he'd been wounded he'd rarely succumbed to battle-fevers, and so, though he knew the basics, he wished there was more he could do. The boys' useless father wasn't in the house either, so he couldn't leave to fetch Dís, nor ask the advice of dwarves like Óin from the healing house. When Fíli had been ill, Dís had seen to most of it and Thorin had only been called on to stoke the fire or read to his little nephew in the times he was awake.

He threw another log on the glowing embers of the kitchen fire and brought it back to life, placing a pot of water on the hook to boil. During their journey wandering the wilds and working in the towns of men the dwarves of Erebor had gained a broader knowledge of the world outside of rocks. One of these had been the use of plants from plain, woodland and hedgerow that had simply bypassed previous generations. It had been something of a bitter amusement to discover a plant so often used for healing went by the name 'kingsfoil' – though his father and grandfather had not appreciated it.

It was perfect for just this sort of situation as it warmed and cleansed the body. It did not grow around Ered Luin but they had barrels of dried leaves stored within the city. He vaguely remembered Dís keeping some on the top shelf of the pantry and was rewarded with a packet smelling of the subtle but clean fragrance. He crumbled the leaves between his fingers and let them fall into the boiling water. Soon the kitchen was filled with sweet, clean steam that seemed to chase the chill from his very bones. He wasn't entirely sure how much of the leaves to use, but the amount so far seemed to be producing the desired effect so he resisted the urge to add more. Fetching two mugs from the cupboard he carefully poured the hot liquid into them and left the rest to stew in the pot.

Fíli had leaned back against the wall the bed was pressed against, and seemed almost asleep when Thorin re-entered the room. Kíli was still tossing and turning beside him. Thorin placed the mugs on the small bedside table and put a hand on Kíli's shoulder to wake him.

"Kíli, my little one, you have to wake up now."

Kíli murmured unhappily, and attempted to turn away from the insistent shaking.

"Come on now, Kíli, you must take some medicine – you too Fíli," he said, looking over at the elder of the two.

Fíli shuffled forward, still clinging to the blanket wrapped around him, and accepted the steaming mug. The smell seemed to rouse Kíli who looked up at his uncle with eyes that were barely focused. Thorin moved to sit on the bed, propping the pillows up against the wall so he could lean against them. With one arm he gently lifted Kíli upright and anchored him in place against his side before pressing the other mug into his shaking hands. Fíli sipped at his unaided but Kíli needed a little help to keep the mug steady and stop him from scalding himself.

"How much do we have to drink, uncle?" Fíli asked wearily, but Thorin was pleased to hear some of the thickness in his voice had already disappeared.

"All of it, my little ones, then you can sleep," he replied, blowing gently on Kíli's to cool it.

The taste wasn't unpleasant and soon Fíli had finished. The glassy set to his eyes was already fading, and he was clearly breathing easier. Kíli was also perking up a little the more he drank and he had all but stopped shivering. Thorin couldn't remember a time when he'd felt such a powerful sense of relief on seeing the two boys settle into being merely tired.

As he started to move so he could tuck them both in, Kíli cuddled in closer to his side and Fíli crawled up the bed to curl under his other arm.

"Will you sing to us, uncle?" Fíli asked, his voice slow as he was starting to drift off.

"Please," sighed Kíli, who could also barely keep his eyes open.

Thorin smiled down at them both, and reached for the covers to pull over them and himself. They both squirmed a little in his hold to get comfortable and Thorin waited for them to settle before starting to hum softly. The deep, soothing noise reverberated in his chest and Fíli and Kíli immediately relaxed on hearing the bass tones.

He sang softly. It was an old song, one that he remembered his mother singing when he had been naught more than a babe himself. He wasn't sure Dís knew this one – their mother hadn't survived long after his sister had been born. He would have to teach it to her. On either side of him the boys fell into a peaceful sleep – their warm weights comforting against him.

He leaned further back against the cushions and lowered his singing until he was simply humming once again. He thought to himself that he should move and leave the boys to their rest, but he couldn't make himself leave them. He hated the thought of them waking again without his being there. Eventually his humming faded as he slipped into an easy slumber.

XXXXX

R/R!


	6. Chapter 6

**I have had the _worst_ case of writer's block ever with this damn story!**

**I don't really know what sparked this particular idea off, but hopefully now I'll be able to get back to what you guys said you wanted in your reviews. Sorry I haven't been able to do them this time around!**

**This is a bit of a stab in the dark as we know pretty much bugger all about Dain Ironfoot, but as he's Billy Connolly in the films I figure he must have a sense of humour.**

**Enjoy.**

**XXXXX**

"I'm not at all sure about this, Dís," Thorin muttered, twisting the thick parchment in his hands.

Dís cast him an exasperated look as she stirred the dinner, "I don't really see what we can do about it, brother dear, he'll be here at the end of the week regardless."

Thorin scowled and unfurled the parchment to read the missive again. Dain Ironfoot, the new Lord of the Iron Hills, was deigning to pay Ered Luin a visit. Dain's grandfather had been most kind to many of the refugees of Erebor, but had openly wondered at the sense of the founding of the colony in the Blue Mountains. He had been quite annoyed when he had been promptly ignored.

"He's only coming to assure himself that the Iron Hills is still more prosperous," Thorin complained.

Dís rolled her eyes, "I don't know why he's bothering to come all this way. Anyone with even an ounce of sense can see that a colony barely over a score of years old can't compete with one that has hundreds of years to its name."

"He just wants to feel important," he groused.

"He never did like you, or Frerin, much," Dís teased.

Thorin scoffed, "Of course not. We were the heirs to a Kingdom, and neither of us were little cry-babies either."

Dís laughed, "I always wondered, if Smaug had never come, would grandfather have made me marry Dain?"

"Grandfather wouldn't have become so mad as to force a choice on you. You would have had your pick of any number of dwarves, and by Mahal I'm sure you would never have chosen that oaf you have been saddled with," Thorin grumbled.

Dís smiled wryly into the fire, "I'd choose him over any dwarf so long as it meant I had the boys. I must admit, though, I always thought Dain was very handsome."

She laughed aloud at the scandalised look Thorin sent her way, "Oh come on Thorin, even you can't deny that he used to have the girls of Erebor all of a flutter when he visited."

"Perhaps, until they saw how badly Dwalin, Frerin and I used to defeat him in the tourneys."

"You don't suit smugness, Thorin, you never have," she chastised, though the smirk belied her tone.

"I can't believe you found him handsome. Did you ever tell him? In fact, don't answer that, I don't wish to know anything more about it. He wants to meet the boys – probably to compare them to his brother's bratlings as with everything else."

Dís banged the spoon against the rim of the pot to shake off the excess, and turned around to face him, "That is enough, Thorin. As much as I enjoy watching you pout like you used to when we were children, you can't let him get to you like this. I thought after the battles at Khazad-dûm you would have forgotten your little feuds. How long has it been since you two have even seen each other? You will both act like the grown dwarves you are, and perhaps we can all be real friends again."

"Who will be friends with who, mama?" Fíli asked as he and Kíli trailed into the kitchen.

Dwalin followed them in carrying the training equipment, "This isn't about Dain still, is it?"

Thorin's grumbling was enough to show Dwalin that _of course_ it was. He shared a look of amusement with Dís, before corralling the boys to the sink to wash their hands for supper.

"Who is Dain, mister Dwalin?" Kíli asked, showing his washed hands to him so he could go sit at the table.

"Dain is a dwarf lord; he is the leader of the dwarves who live in the Iron Hills. Your mama, Thorin, and I were friends with him when we were your age. He's coming to visit in a few days and he's keen to meet you both," Dwalin answered, watching as Thorin started scowling at his plate again.

"Is he nice, mama?" Kíli asked, clambering up onto his chair.

"Oh, he's very nice, he doesn't have any children of his own yet, so I'm sure he'll enjoy having the company of two charming little dwarflings like you two," Dís suppressed her smirk as she watched Thorin's expression turn thunderous at her description out of the corner of her eye.

Kíli seemed happy enough, but Fíli was watching his uncle with a concerned expression.

"Is everything alright, uncle Thorin? Do you not like mister Dain?"

Thorin looked up and floundered at the earnest expression on his nephew's face, "It's not that I don't like him, it's ..."

He trailed off and looked to Dís for help while Dwalin smirked into his bowl.

"Dain and your uncle were two of the most stubborn dwarves I have ever met, and they used to compete with each other over everything," Dís complained.

"You used to win, right, uncle?"

"Naturally," Thorin replied, the smugness returning to his features as he smiled into the distance over past victories.

Fíli and Kíli shared an excited look and immediately clamoured for details. Thorin and Dwalin were about to launch into a spirited re-telling of the time Dain had called them out for a training session before he arrived only to find that Thorin had grown somewhat since the last time he'd seen him when Dís interrupted.

"I'm afraid your uncle, Dwalin, and your late uncle Frerin were not the sensible boys you are. It's true they often got the better of Dain, but not without making themselves look mighty foolish in the process," she said firmly, giving the two old warriors a pointed look.

"Your mama never liked it because she thought Dain was the handsomest dwarf of Mahal's making," Dwalin stage-whispered, aware he had chosen a seat that put the table between him and her ire.

Dís' face coloured and she tugged on her sleekly braided beard, "Dwalin!"

"Eww!" Fíli and Kíli chorused, giggling at the mortification on their mother's face.

"You knew?" Thorin exclaimed, pointing his spoon like a sword at Dwalin.

Dwalin rolled his eyes, and smiled down at the laughing boys, "By Aulë, Thorin, I think you were the only one who didn't."

Thorin cast his sister an aggrieved look and she giggled, "Oh come on, Thorin, do you remember all those awful accidents that used to happen to the dwarf boys I so much smiled at? They were very strange, weren't they?"

Thorin flushed and looked down, suddenly finding his dinner very interesting.

She gave him a fond glance, "So given your silly rivalry with Dain, it was best to keep it from you, or you might have done something _really _stupid."

"You two should consider yourselves very lucky you don't have a sister," Dwalin said, "Troublemakers that they are."

Dís and Thorin smiled at each other affectionately, glad that they still had each other through it all.

XXXXX

Thorin and Dwalin had gone to the inn for a drink to discuss Dain's visit without Dís' fond exasperation so Dís was tucking the boys into bed.

Fíli pulled on his long sleeping shirt and crawled into his bed, watching as his mother wrestled Kíli into his nightwear and lifted him into his bed. Pulling her youngest down to rest on the pillow she covered him with the blanket and kissed him on the forehead. Walking over to Fíli she tucked the corners around him tightly and kissed him also.

"Now, which story would you like to hear tonight?"

Usually when she asked this question both boys wanted to hear the same thing, and so she heard two little voices chorus their choice. However, tonight she only heard one. Kíli wanted to hear about a great dwarf battle of old, obviously one he had heard of from Dwalin. Dís looked over to Fíli to see that he was frowning slightly and hadn't said anything.

"Is everything alright, my darling?" she asked, settling herself on the bed beside him.

Kíli, on realising that something was wrong with his beloved older brother, wriggled out from under his blankets and padded across the floor to climb in beside him. Dís tutted, but allowed him to crawl under the blankets and grab a hold onto Fíli's thick hair.

"Mama, do you ..." he trailed off, not meeting her eyes.

"You can ask me anything, Fíli darling, I'm your mama," she replied gently, reaching over to stroke his hair away from his face.

"Do you wish you'd married Dain?" he asked.

Kíli was still a little young to understand the weight of the question, but he burrowed closer to Fíli and waited for his mama to make Fíli alright again.

"Oh Fíli," she sighed, smiling down at him, "That was a lifetime ago."

"'Cos you don't like papa, and neither does uncle Thorin, or Dwalin, and you're nothing like Glóin and Lílis," he blurted out in a rush, still looking down at the quilt.

Dís sighed. She'd hoped that the boys were still too young to notice how she felt about their father. It just showed her how Fíli was growing, and that they wouldn't be her little ones forever.

"I wish we could be like Glóin and Lílis – theirs was a love match. Only a few dwarves are lucky enough to find something as wonderful as what they have. You remember your stories of Erebor?"

Both boys nodded, although Kíli still seemed a little confused.

"Well, your great-grandfather was the king, and when you're a king everyone has to do what you say, even your grandchildren. He wanted me to marry your father, so I had to. Your father was not who I would have married if I'd been allowed to choose for myself."

She reached under the blankets and took their little hands, "Even though I wouldn't have picked your father, I do not regret it. Do you understand? I do not regret it in the slightest. Do you know why?"

Both of them looked up at her, their eyes bright in the low candlelight.

She smiled broadly, "Because he gave me the pair of you. You can't understand how precious you are to me, and I'd marry your father a hundred times over if it meant I would have such wonderful children."

Both her boys looked a little teary-eyed and her arms were suddenly full of dwarflings who had launched themselves at her. She laughed and cuddled them close, brushing kisses over their hair. It took several minutes for them to loosen their grip enough for her to tuck them back into bed.

As she walked to the door, she turned to look them both over again, "Whatever happens, you remember that I love you, and Thorin loves you, and nothing will ever change that. When we are no longer with you, then you will have each other. There will always be someone who loves you."

XXXXX

The boys tried not to fidget as they stood in the entrance of Grand Hall waiting for Dain to arrive. Kíli had never been to the entertaining hall before, and Fíli had only been inside once. The dwarves of Ered Luin tended to use the large open square in the centre of the city for their feasts and celebrations. It was a more congenial atmosphere than the stuffy Hall, but Thorin had to stand on ceremony and have the initial meeting and meal within it.

Both boys had been scrubbed to within an inch of their lives and given new clothes for the occasion. Fíli's hair shone like gold in the lamplight and Kíli was content to stand in his shadow, holding tightly onto his hand with nervousness. Dís had endured the teasing of Thorin and Dwalin as she too had made a real effort with her appearance. Thorin had almost forgotten how she had looked when she had been princess under the mountain – there was no call for dressing in finery when one was working at the forge.

Her jet-black hair was plaited intricately around her head, lines of silver threaded throughout it. Her beard was swept back into the plaits, as full and thick as any male dwarf's. Although her dresses had been lost with Erebor, Thorin fancied he recognised the one she wore; she must have had the tailor make a similar one for today. She was still a relatively young dwarfess, and her regal bearing had every eye on her as she entered the Hall.

It was just as well that Dain was married, Thorin thought to himself with a scowl. His sister was beautiful, and her husband could not ever have hoped to deserve her.

Fíli and Kíli looked every inch the little princes they were, and Thorin spared them a proud smile. They both smiled back, but it was clear they were nervous in the face of their first political engagement. By the time he was Fíli's age he'd had years of being trotted out in front of various dignitaries desperately trying to suck up to his grandfather. The infinitely more relaxed dealings of Ered Luin were much better suited to raising royal children. Thorin would always be glad that the boys had the chance to just be boys, rather than always just being princes.

He turned away from his nephews towards the doors as they opened to allow Dain and his travelling party inside. He had been expecting the usual pomp and circumstance, but it seemed that Dain had matured since their last encounter. He was dressed finely, but not ostentatiously, and there was a distinct lack of wittering musicians that had characterised his previous appearances. On meeting Thorin's eyes he smiled widely and opened his arms to greet him.

The inner child that Thorin kept very deep inside himself desperately wanted to refuse the gesture. However he could feel Dís' eyes boring into the side of his head, and he instead smiled in return and stepped forward into the gesture. A few hearty claps on the back later they separated. Dain held him at arm's length to look him over.

It had been well over a decade since he'd last laid eyes on the exiled prince of Erebor. The dwarf before him bore only a small resemblance to the flint-edged and devastatingly angry prince that had left his father's lands to form his own. The pain and rage that had fuelled him for so long was still present, but his edges had softened.

Thorin bore his investigation with patience, although he was sure Dwalin was rolling his eyes from his position beside the boys.

"It is good to see you again, Thorin Oakenshield," Dain said, his eyes sliding over to what he was sure was the reason Thorin had lightened over the years, "Is that the lovely Lady Dís?"

Thorin clamped down on the desire to grind his teeth and turned to his sister, "Aye, and her children."

Dís ushered them forward. Kíli clung to Fíli's hand harder, and to his mother's skirts, but Fíli stood to his full height and watched Dain solemnly.

Dain bowed deeply before her, "My Lady, you haven't aged a day!"

Dís smiled wryly, "Oh I wish it were true, my Lord, the years have been kind to you also."

Dwalin put a hand on Thorin's shoulder when it looked like he was about to fold his arms and glare at the back of Dain's head.

"And who are these two handsome young men?" Dain exclaimed, kneeling down to the boys' level.

Dain was tall for a dwarf and more slender than most, but his shoulders were still broad and his body powerful. They both supposed that he was handsome, with full features and laughing brown eyes, but Thorin was definitely still better.

"May I introduce you to the masters Fíli, and Kíli," Dís said, smiling down at them with pride.

"At your service, my lord!" they chirruped obediently, and bowed deeply, completely in sync with one another as always.

Dain looked thoroughly delighted with the pair of them, and dipped his head in return, "And I at yours, young masters."

Without getting up he turned to Thorin, "There was talk of a feast, was there not?" he asked, smiling all the while.

Thorin couldn't resist Dain's good humour, as much as he wanted to, and gestured to the door that would lead to the main part of the hall, "Aye, do try not to eat us out of house and home, won't you?"

Dain turned back to the boys and winked at them, "Well, I can't make any promises! And these growing boys need as much food as they can manage!"

He offered his hand to Fíli, who looked to his mother for permission before taking it, and rose. He tipped his other elbow out to escort Dís who took it with a smile. He glanced down to make sure Kíli was still clinging to Fíli's hand before following Thorin to the laden dining table. Thorin shook his head as he watched Dain integrate himself into his family without hesitation. Dwalin smirked over at him, and mouthed 'you aren't boys anymore'.

Dain sat at Thorin's right hand as the guest of honour, with Dís taking the seat to her brother's left. Fíli and Kíli made to sit next to their mother but Dain asked if they would sit beside him. Dwalin sat on their other side to keep an eye on the pair of them.

"Such well behaved boys!" Dain said as he watched the two of them ladle food carefully onto their plates, and remember their 'pleases' and 'thank yous' as the feast began in earnest.

Dís beamed with pride, and even Thorin couldn't resist giving them both the sort of fond smile Dain had once thought had been lost with Erebor. Fíli and Kíli blushed under the praise, but it was easy to see how relieved they both were that they were coping with the new situation.

"I don't suppose they've started their weapons training?" Dain asked.

"Fíli has, we feel Kíli is still a little young, no matter what he says," Thorin said, giving his youngest nephew a wink.

"It's not fair, mister Dain! Fíli is only a little bit older than me!" Kíli piped up, trying to feel out whether he had a new ally with his usual lack of subtlety.

Dain laughed aloud, "Come now, master Kíli, if Thorin thinks you are too young, by which I suspect means that your mother thinks you are too young," he said, Dís' expression proving him correct, "then he knows best."

Kíli pouted, but seemed resigned to the fact that he would just have to wait a little longer. There was no need to tell anyone that Fíli was secretly teaching him some of the simpler moves Dwalin was passing along to him.

"My brother and I didn't learn the way of the sword until we were a good bit older than you, master Fíli, you must be a very grown up little dwarfling," Dain smiled down at Fíli, who blushed modestly under the praise.

Dís mock-glared at Dain, "He's still my baby, Dain, don't you give him any ideas."

Ignoring Fíli's mortified whine of 'mama!' Dain laughed, and nodded to Dís, miming sealing his lips shut.

"How is your wife, any plans to have little ones of your own?" Dís asked.

Dain smiled wistfully at the mention of his wife, "She is well. I couldn't convince her to make the trip, as much as I tried. I'm hoping to have an arrival in the near future – I don't think I can stand my little brother lording his wonderful little bratlings over me much longer. How about you, Dwalin, settling down on your horizon?" he asked, turning to him over the boys' heads.

Dwalin barked a laugh, "Had too much ale already, Dain? I'll tell the servers to cut you off!"

"Oh, don't say that Dwalin, you'll make a fine father," Dís defended him when it became clear that Thorin was enjoying the mental image of Dwalin with children too much to do it himself.

"My wife has a sister, Dwalin, we could set up a meeting," Dain mentioned casually, waggling his eyebrows.

Thorin had been chortling to himself until Dwalin said, "Why not introduce her to Thorin? He could do with a wife, and you always did like a challenge!"

The laugh died in his throat with a wheeze and the others roared with laughter at the horrified look that he couldn't quite control from spreading over his face. Fíli and Kíli looked completely lost as the adults bantered over their heads, but the food was brilliant, and Fíli was sure it wouldn't be long before the dwarves around them had enough to drink to allow them to relax the formal manners their mother had insisted they remember.

Dain and his travelling companions proved to be excellent conversationalists and the ale flowed freely. Fíli and Kíli were sure they'd never seen their mother and uncle laugh so much as they did retelling stories of their childhoods. The pair of them hung on every word – Dain in particular was a fantastic story-teller, and gracefully accepted the ribbing that Dwalin and Thorin gave him over his more egregious exploits. In turn the two of them accepted the laughter of their friends when their own misdeeds came to light.

"How about the time grandfather suddenly noticed that all his state robes had gone missing, and he searched almost the whole of Erebor only to find you, Dwalin, and Frerin wearing them all and harassing the merchants in Dale to give you free samples of ale?" Dís cackled.

"It worked didn't it?" Dwalin slapped the table, making the crockery jump.

"Yes, and you were so drunk that you told grandfather that he didn't wear them as well as you did!" Thorin cried.

"I will accept no blame for that!" Dwalin roared, pointing an accusing finger at Thorin, "That was all your fault, and you know it!"

"I do seem to remember, brother, that when you told me about this little tale, you took all the credit," Balin mentioned casually from further down the table where he had been involved in an actual political discussion with his opposite number from the Iron Hills.

Thorin gaped at his oldest friend, "You traitor! I was caned to within an inch of my life and told that I 'had been leading you astray'!"

Fíli and Kíli gasped in wonder at the very idea of Thorin being naughty enough to be punished.

"See boys, no one is above a caning, so you'd better be on your best behaviour!" Dain wheezed in between bouts of laughter.

At the mention of behaving, Dís suddenly seemed to realise the time, "My goodness! I'd best get you two to bed, it's hours past your bedtime!"

The boys protested loudly and vociferously, saying that they weren't tired at all, and begging to hear more stories.

"Dain is here for another week, my darlings, I'm sure he will tell you every _age-appropriate_ embarrassing tale about your uncle that there is to hear," she said, giving Dain a pointed look. She'd already had to cut off several stories about their adolescent years that were in no way suitable for her babies.

Thorin rose from the table and swept them both into his arms, balancing one on each hip, "Your mother is right, boys, you have behaved wonderfully tonight, but we can't have two grumpy little dwarflings come the 'morrow."

Kíli let their argument down slightly by yawning widely, and even Fíli was hard pressed not to join him when held safely in their uncle's arms. He smiled down fondly at the pair of them and gave them both a look to tell them that they weren't fooling anyone.

"I'll take them home, Dís; it's been too long since I've seen you have such a good time."

Dís smiled gratefully up at her brother, and pressed kisses to the heads of her beloved boys. Already Kíli was starting to droop against the soft cushioning of Thorin's hair, and Fíli wasn't much further behind him.

As they watched Thorin carry them from the hall, Dain laid a hand on Dís', "You have a wonderful family. You should be proud of those boys; they are a credit to you, to Thorin, even to Balin and Dwalin. I am happy that Ered Luin has become a home for you."

Dís turned to smile at him, "You have grown up, Dain. We couldn't have done this without your family's kindness."

"Well, we all have to grow up sometime, and you were forced to grow up harder than most. Here, no maudlin thoughts - a toast, to families of all kinds!"

XXXXX


End file.
